Random musings on a writer's life & times, with occasional input from acquaintances
Sunday, December 05, 2004
Writeright seems to have devolved into a weekly production, sort of like the old column I used to write for The Bulletin, that illustrious newspaper in Bend, Ore-gawn. I’m not sure what this signifies. I’ll have to think on it.
1) What are you wearing?
White t-shirt with a semi-lewd message -- “put the fun between your legs” -- and a drawing of a bicycle on the front in red ink (the shirt was designed by my niece, Anna Jane the Human Pain, as a souvenir of last summer’s Idaho Bike Ride, a week-long torture session in which AJ the HP participated along with various aunts, cousins and an uncle --me; she gave each relative a shirt; oh, that college-girl humor!) Blue Levi’s, white Nike sox, sweatboots.
2) What are you reading?
Three books at the same time. Do you ever get trapped in these loops, as I do, where you jump back and forth among three or more books, reading a paragraph from this one, a page from that one, a sentence from the other? The upshot being that you make no progress toward finishing any of them? That’s where I am. The books -- one by Robert Stone, another by Tom Perrotta and a third by Lisa Glatt -- are good and deserve to be read, but experience teaches that my next step will be to grow frustrated with all three, set them aside and read a fourth one instead. The jilted books will go back to the library or onto a shelf in my home, never to be read in their entirety. Sigh.
3) What’s for dinner?
Clam chowder, perhaps? Cookie Jean, my wife/chef, made some last night that was pretty tasty, and there seemed to be a lot left over.
4) What’s the best thing that happened this week?
I came up a winner in National Novel-Writing Month! Midnight Tuesday, Nov. 30, was the deadline for generating a 50,000-word fiction manuscript so I could earn a winner’s certificate and accompanying website halo (I haven’t yet figured out how to mount the halo on Writeright), and I slid under the wire at ten p.m. with a manuscript of 51,549 words. Verbose as I am, however, I had not resolved the plot at that point. I figure I have another 5,000 words or so to go. NaNoWriMo organizers warn participants that not tying up loose ends of the story by the deadline is a dangerous -- though legal -- business, because virtually no writer finishes the last bit if it is left hanging. Wish me luck in completing the tale. I must admit I have generated zero words since the deadline.
5) What’s bugging you?
Remember the furnace repairman I summoned to my house erroneously (and obnoxiously) on Thanksgiving weekend? Remember how he magnanimously said, after we figured out the furnace was not malfunctioning but shut off, he would nonetheless return later in the week to replace a broken switch left by his company’s installers? He never came back. He’s the third guy from Robben & Sons Heating (leave us name names, eh?) to promise to fix said switch and then disappear into the ozone.
6) Where in the world is Carmen San Diego?
Frogmore, Louisiana. (The Robben & Sons repairmen may be there, too.)
7) What’s it all about, Dave?
"Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life."
--Pablo Picasso (artist)
“Pablo Picasso was never called an asshole.”
--Jonathan Richman (singer)